A Business Transaction
by Nietzchian
Summary: The Boss/President of the United States is losing money to a rising clothing company called Revocs. The only thing for him to do is to take care of it Saints Row style. M for language.


"Haaa…haa…haa…"

Pierce Washington ran down the hallways of the White Crib, shoes pattering on the soft carpet. Sweat dripped down his black brow, but he did not attempt to wipe it off. He clutched a manila envelope in the crook of his arm.

"I gotta hurry…hurry…Man, I ain't run like this since I was back in Stillwater."

He finally reached his destination. He expected Oleg to be there. The Russian giant towered over him, one eyebrow arched at Pierce's disheveled state. But Benjamin King was there too. The muscular black man, once head of the Vice Kings gang, was chatting with Oleg.

"Mr. Washington?" King asked. "What's the matter?"

Pierce stopped to place his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

"It's…a disaster…" He breathed. "It's bad, Benjamin, really bad…"

"What is it? There was that reported hurricane, was it worse than we thought it would be?"

"No." Pierce shook his head. "It's worse."

King's eyes widened.

"Did terrorists attack New York City?"

"Worse."

"Worse?!" King exclaimed. "Are the Russians attacking?"

"Worse."

"What can be worse than that?! For God's sake, Pierce, what just happened?"

Pierce took the envelope out and opened it. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and handed it to King. King removed his sunglasses and scanned the paper for several long seconds.

"The Boss isn't going to like this." King slowly said. "Not. At. All."

…

…

Two hours later, the Boss dragged himself inside one of the White Crib's conference rooms. It was the middle of the night, but he wore an expensive designer suit modeled on the classic styles and traditions. Well, aside from the deep purple color. He was a new President, so it made sense that he would mix old and new traditions, right? Why did no one seem to understand?

The whole crew was there. Shaundi, Kinzie Kenzington, Vice President Keith David, Benjamin, Pierce, Oleg. King shook his head on seeing the Boss arrive, but he paid it no mind. The Boss plopped down on a leather chair, removed his sunglasses, and slicked back his black hair.

"Boss." Kinzie Kenzington said. "The meeting was scheduled to start forty minutes ago."

"I was busy." The Boss shrugged. "There was this tour group earlier today, right? Decided to chat them up. There was this woman, and I swear, she had the best-looking ass ever. So I gave her a key to the Crib and invited her to come visit later. Didn't know why she brought that goat and those rubber ducks along with her, but later it made more sense when she used them to-"

"_Ahem."_

A young woman at the edge of the cabinet table coughed. The Boss didn't recognize her. She was even smaller than Kinzie, dressed in a smart-looking suit. Her skin was a light brown, and the Boss noticed that while her hair was blonde, it had likely been dyed that color. She also sported square clear glasses.

"Hey, who the heck are you?"

"Boss," Benjamin King said. "She's been to all of your previous cabinet meetings. Her name's Marei Ruohuo."

"Ruohuo?" The Boss tapped his chin. "Oh, right, I remember! Yeah, your daddy is a judge, right? That geezer told me that he could help me out if I gave his daughter some unimportant job or something."

"You named me Secretary of State." Ruohuo said. "And my father's a Senator."

"Eh, what's the difference?" The Boss shrugged. "Apparently there's an emergency of some sorts? I haven't heard any explosions from the Oval Office, how bad can it be?"

King took the sheet of paper and slid it across the table.

"Everyone here has read this, Boss." He said.

The Boss picked up the paper with a smile. But as his eyes moved down the sheet of paper, the smile gradually faded. Eventually, he stopped, crumpled it up, and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Planet Saints' value has crashed by 80% over the past two weeks." The Boss glared. "Pierce, I thought you were supposed to be running my clothing company. What the hell happened? And now that I think of it, why'd you need to bring a piece of paper? Shouldn't you have known Planet Saints' state without it?"

"Well…" Pierce sweated. "I…got a lot of things to do, ya know? I'm your communications director. I gotta communicate with people and stuff."

"Right. Aren't you the reason Roho's daddy got in touch with me?"

"It's Ruohuo."

"Whatever." The Boss ignored his Secretary of State. "Well, I'm the President, so let's get down to important business. So, why the hell has Planet Saints' value fallen to shit?"

"Well…" Pierce stammered. "I'm not too sure about that right now. But if I had more time to research, a few weeks, maybe a month, I'm sure I could dig up something and-"

"It's because of Revocs, right?" Kinzie piped up.

"Revocs?" The Boss asked.

"It's a Japanese clothing chain." Kinzie said. "A whole bunch of stores opened up in the United States recently, and they've been stupendously popular. My Internet friends tell me that there's been a line of people outside all of their stores every day for the past few weeks."

"The heck? What's with these clothes, do they jerk you off when you're walking down the street?"

"Mr. President." Keith David chided.

"We're all adults here, aside from maybe Miss Roho there. Anyways, Pierce, Kinzie? What about you, Shaundi? So, why are these clothes popular?"

"I know answer." Oleg spoke through his accent. "Revocs open store in Vladivostok last year. I get in touch with Mother recently, had not seen her in many years while I trapped in Syndicate vat. She say that Revocs perfect. Good price, good quality. She said that the clothes make people strong. Mother able to run for first time in many years wearing Revocs. Big fan."

"Huh. Maybe the Boss was right. They really do jerk you off."

"Pierce." Keith David said.

The Boss waved his hand.

"Anyway, so we got a problem. There's a clothing chain that's cutting into Planet Saints. No doubt they're cutting in mine – I mean America's – pocketbook. They're muscling in on our turf. Now, what are we going to do about this?"

"We could slash prices." Benjamin King said.

"Ridiculous."

"We could come out with some new clothing lines."

"Shaundi, come on."

"We could claim our clothes are sustainable or something like that to attract rich customers." Kinzie suggested.

"Nope."

"You could sell your shares in Planet Saints?"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!"

The Boss broke out laughing at that suggestion. He doubled over the table, pounding it with his fist.

"Oh, that was a great joke! Absolutely hilarious! Sell my shares, BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA! Hey, who suggested that? You deserve a Presidential Fistbump for that joke!"

"It wasn't a joke, Mr. President."

Miss Ruohuo pushed her glasses up her nose.

"Mr. President," She continued. "If I'm correct, everyone here happens to hold shares in Planet Saints. Don't you think that there's a problem with that?"

"Of course there is!" The President said. "We hold shares. The share prices are decreasing because of Revocs. So we have to do something about it."

"That is not what I meant, Mr. President. Don't you think it's inappropriate for a public servant to be holding stock in a private company? Especially the President of the United States?"

For several long seconds, no one said anything. Pierce tapped a finger on his chin, Kinzie looked pointedly away, and Shaundi coughed. The Boss tilted his head, his expression completely befuddled.

"I don't get what you're trying to say."

"Well, what would happen if you had to do something that would benefit the United States but hurt Planet Saints? Or the other way around, where you could do something which helped Planet Saints but hurt your country? Would you be willing to do the right thing?"

"Well, of course I would do the right thing!" The Boss cried.

"You would?" Ruohuo asked.

"Of course. I would make sure to help out Planet Saints!" The Boss nodded. "I mean, Pierce runs Planets Saints. Pierce is part of the Saints. So I always got to help a brother out, you know?"

Pierce nodded, a grin plastered on his face. On the other hand, Marie's eyes widened and she buried her face in her hands.

"Well, now that I got Miss Roho's question out of the way, something to all of you." The Boss said. "Have you guys lost all your nerve? Lowering prices? New clothing lines? Pierce, Shaundi, you remember what we did to the Sons of Samedi? Those guys came muscling in on our Stillwater turf with that Loa Dust drugs. What'd we do? We took their shit, and we sold it right back, and we killed their leader. We gonna do the exact same thing with these fancy clothes. We are going to find out how Revocs makes their shit, and we are going to blow the motherfucking crap out of every Revocs store. That's how the Third Street Saints roll."

"Boss," Kinzie said. "There's currently over 200 Revocs stores in the United States. They're in cities and towns across the country. They are spread out across the United States, and there is even one here in downtown Washington. How do you propose that we get rid of all of-"

"Whoa, there's one nearby?" The Boss said.

"Well...yes." Kinzie admitted. "About a fifteen minute drive from here."

"Well, that settles it." The Boss clapped his hands. "Like ya said, Kinzie, there's a lot of Revocs stores, and no doubt they'll be building more. So we better get to work fast. No time to call the Army for this, I'm going to see these guys put out of business personally. Let's roll out!"

"Mr. President." Keith David said. "Are you sure about this?"

The Boss rolled his eyes.

"Man, I wish Johnny Gat was still here. He'd be full on board with blowing these guys up. But yes, if you want to come blow up a clothing chain, follow me. We'll be ready to roll in front of the White Crib in five."


End file.
